


You're the only thing I want to see

by authoressjean



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gen, M/M, Nothing explicit, Prompt Response, Thorin with glasses, but basically this is Thorin as an author with glasses, this got a tiny bit porny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-20
Updated: 2013-12-20
Packaged: 2018-01-05 07:19:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1091135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/authoressjean/pseuds/authoressjean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You'd think after dating someone for two years you'd know almost everything about them.</p>
<p>And then Bilbo finds out that his boyfriend, multi-millionaire author extraordinaire, has glasses. Thorin wears <i>glasses</i>.</p>
<p>And it's a very appealing image.</p>
<p>One-shot. Prompt response.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're the only thing I want to see

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Elenothar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elenothar/gifts).



> So I am finally caught up on comments and owe prompt fics. I'm starting with you, my darling Elenothar, who requested Thorin as an author with glasses. Bilbo apparently really liked the idea. Here's hoping you do, too. :)

“He’s in the study,” Kili said before Bilbo could so much as offer a greeting. “And he’s brassed off something fierce. Thought you might want to be warned.”

The thought of an angry Thorin didn’t bother him anymore. Still, that didn’t mean he wanted to deal with it. “Why?” Bilbo asked, setting down his bag beside the sofa. There wasn’t any room _on_ the sofa, since that was where Kili was lounged. Fili was left with a tiny space to sit, and even that wasn’t enough. With a happy sigh his brother shoved himself further until his head was resting on Fili’s leg. Fili rolled his eyes and scooted over to have a proper seat, giving up the fight at last.

“He got blocked,” Fili said. He flicked Kili in the ear, making his brother whine but not enough to move him. “He can’t figure out how the scene goes. Something about writing himself into a corner.”

Kili frowned. “I thought it was because of the glasses?”

“That too.”

“Glasses? Wait, Thorin has glasses?” Bilbo asked, blinking. He’d been dating the man for two years and now someone was informing him that his boyfriend had _glasses_? “Since when?”

“Since the optometrist bullied him into it at long last. It’s a good thing Oin’s a family friend or else Thorin would’ve tossed him across the room. No one tosses Oin.”

Not if they wanted to live, no. There were people not even Thorin on his testiest of days would cross, and Oin, or ‘Doc’, as they all knew him, was one of them. Dwalin was one Bilbo wouldn’t have crossed either, but since he and Thorin tossed each other about for fun, that sort of didn’t fit the list. “You said the study?” Bilbo finally asked.

Fili and Kili both gave nods, and with a sigh Bilbo made his way down the hall. Durin Manor was still one of the biggest places he’d ever been in, but the glamor didn’t shock him or set him back anymore. Not since he’d seen Fili and Kili sledding down the front entry stairs or Thorin eating cold pizza out of the fridge in only his boxers. Sort of diminished the glow of the fancy house. In the end, a home was a home, and always treated as such.

He knocked on the door of the study and wasn’t surprised at the, “Go _away_ ,” he got. He simply pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The room was a mess of random papers and books thrown everywhere. Reference books, the trusty thesaurus, a dictionary, and a book about mythology were all in his path. He carefully picked them up as he made his way towards Thorin, who was currently hunched over his desk, back to the door. “You’d best have a good reason for entering, boys,” Thorin warned tersely. “I am _not_ in the mood to be trifled with.”

“Are you writing the dragon scene, then?” Bilbo asked, and Thorin quickly turned around at the sound of his voice. “You sound very dragon-like. It’s quite becoming.”

Not any sort of spectacles on his face. No glasses anywhere to be seen. Just Thorin in that old sweater that was practically threadbare, it was so old. For someone who made millions for his writing, one would’ve thought he could afford a better wardrobe. The only reason Bilbo didn’t complain was because he _liked_ Thorin being a little threadbare.

“I’m sorry, I thought you were Fili or Kili, coming to ‘cheer me up’,” Thorin quoted, rolling his eyes. He reached out, arms open, and Bilbo stepped into his embrace with a smile. With Thorin seated and Bilbo standing, he was taller than his boyfriend for this one instance, and he took the chance to place a kiss to the top of Thorin’s hair. Thorin took the chance to place a kiss right above Bilbo’s heart, the sap that he was.

“Hi,” Bilbo murmured.

Thorin gave him a tired smile. “Hi. I was wondering when you’d let out of class.”

“One of my students took forever with his final. I didn’t have the heart to dismiss him, not when I know he’s got a family crisis at the moment.” It seemed like Peregrin _always_ had a family crisis, but he was a good lad, and at the moment, Bilbo knew for a fact that his mother and uncle were fighting, which put a strain on Peregrin’s cousin, which in turn put a strain on Peregrin. Considering he had both Merry and Peregrin in his classes, he knew they were as inseparable as Fili and Kili.

Plus, Peregrin needed all the help he could get. His grades were deplorable, even though Bilbo knew the lad studied like a devil. Some subjects just weren’t for everyone, and history was Peregrin’s weakness. In logic and philosophy, Mr. Grey said he did quite well, even if the older man had no patience for Peregrin.

“Pippin?” Thorin asked, and Bilbo gave a shrug.

“I can’t help it, I’m fond of him.”

“He’s your cousin: that doesn’t surprise me.”

Well, there was that, too. “Second cousin, twice removed,” Bilbo quoted dutifully. “At least, I think that was Pip. I always forget.”

Thorin tugged on his belt loops until they were nose to nose. “Would you take a look at it, later?” he asked. “My manuscript. It needs help. I can’t move forward, I’m completely stuck.”

“And why would I be any help?” Bilbo said, laughing. “The last time I suggested something, you flatly told me ‘no’.”

“You asked me to put in genealogies,” Thorin said dryly. “Which are boring on a good day.”

“History is _important_.”

Thorin snorted and shook his head, his forehead brushing against Bilbo’s. “Please?” he pleaded, and when Thorin asked for anything, Bilbo was never one to deny him.

“You know I will.”

Thorin smiled and pressed a quick kiss to Bilbo’s lips, making him yearn for more. He’d gone all _day_ without Thorin, which should have been a crime. “Thank you. You’re my muse.”

“Stop it,” Bilbo said, swatting at his shoulder. “You total sap.”

“My reason for writing, for breathing, for living-“

“ _Stop_!” Bilbo said, laughing now, pushing at Thorin. The chair suddenly slid on its wheels, and Thorin caught Bilbo as they slid back and into the desk. Thorin was laughing now too, though, and Bilbo could barely catch his breath, too busy laughing and clutching at Thorin.

Then his eyes caught on a particular something on the desk, and he grinned. “What?” Thorin asked, still chuckling.

“You didn’t tell me you needed glasses,” Bilbo said, and Thorin’s good mood began to slide away. “Two years, and you never told me. You _wanker_ ,” but he was still grinning. “I tell you all my dark secrets, and you keep this lovely tidbit from me.”

“It is not _lovely_ ,” Thorin growled. “I had eye surgery as a child which kept me out of lenses, except I can’t read smaller print anymore without a headache. The reason I got the surgery was because I got tired of being shoved around at school and bullied.”

“You won’t be bullied now,” Bilbo said. “Lots of people have reading spectacles and you know it. So if that’s your excuse for not wearing them now or for not telling me, it’s a lame one and I won’t have it. So. Let me see.”

Thorin glared at him mulishly. “I’ll do it myself,” Bilbo said, reaching ever so slowly for the glasses.

He got his hand over the desk before Thorin snatched the things up and unfolded them himself. “Here,” he said, and he pushed them onto his face. “Does that satisfy you?”

Oh god but he was a sight. Long hair hanging back in that low half-ponytail to keep his hair from his face, beard short and clipped, and there were his glasses, framing his beautiful blue eyes like a glass case protecting sapphires. “Well?” Thorin demanded when Bilbo didn’t give a response.

Bilbo slowly reached up and traced one finger along the arm of the glasses all the way to Thorin’s ear, where they hooked over just so. It drew a shiver, and Bilbo swallowed hard. “Does it satisfy you?” Thorin asked, but his voice was lower, now.

“It very much does,” Bilbo murmured. He couldn’t help himself, running his fingers through Thorin’s hair and pushing off the hair tie. Behind the glasses, Thorin’s eyes were more vivid than before, focal points that kept Bilbo staring and _wanting_. It gave him some very bad thoughts about Thorin being the teacher for once, and Bilbo the student-

Oh god he was practically in Thorin’s lap as it was, and this wasn’t helping him at all. “I-I think you need to, um, to take them off,” Bilbo whispered.

Now it was Thorin’s turn to smirk, and it did things to Bilbo, Thorin _knew_ that. “Really?” he said. “I was just starting to enjoy having them on.” And he deliberately, _slowly_ , reached up and pushed the glasses back up his nose with one finger.

Bilbo made some sort of sound, he wasn’t certain what kind, but the next thing he knew he was in Thorin’s lap properly and _hello_ , someone was interested. His mouth was being plundered by Thorin’s tongue, licking and tasting and Bilbo hung on to his boyfriend’s hair, tight in his grasp. His fingers brushed against Thorin’s glasses, and an image of Thorin in nothing _but_ the glasses was enough. He gave a muffled moan as his hips jerked forward, which in turn got an answering rock from Thorin, and-

“Not that we want to interrupt _whatever_ you two are doing-“

“Not that you’re doing anything. But you could.”

“-but your publisher’s on the line and wants to talk to you.”

Bilbo clutched at Thorin’s sweater and took in ragged breaths, willing the cresting rise to back off for just a few minutes. Thorin’s publisher was not a patient man. “You should get that,” Bilbo managed when he had his breath back.

Thorin still looked pole-axed, gasping for air himself. “Right,” he said, but his fingers were still tightly wrapped around Bilbo’s hips. He tilted his head back to try and get himself under control, and the arch of his neck, with the glasses delicately perched on his face…

“Oh god, stop it,” Bilbo moaned. “Just looking at you and I’ll make a mess of my shorts. Take those things _off_.”

“Only if you get the phone,” Thorin said, head still tilted back. “Because there’s absolutely no way I can walk right now. At all.”

Bilbo stared. “Did _you_ …?”

“Guys, the _phone_! I don’t want to talk to Denethor more than I have to!”

“Please,” Thorin all but begged, voice ragged, and Bilbo about came from his voice. He was a vision, head thrown back while he sat sprawled in his chair, and there was still a hard line in his trousers. Hadn’t made it past the finish line, then. But close enough.

Bilbo stumbled to the door and took the phone from Fili and Kili, both of whom had their hands over their eyes. “Oh for god’s sakes,” Bilbo muttered. He managed to get the phone up to his ear, fingers still a little weak. “This is Bilbo speaking.”

“At least I’m getting in the right direction,” Denethor said irritably. “But to Thorin, if you please.”

As he’d expected. Denethor was nothing if not terse and to the point. Sometimes that was a good thing and sometimes it wasn’t. And right now, it really wasn’t.

Not when Bilbo turned and found Thorin still sprawled in his chair, legs spread indecently, pants tight, hands clutching at the arms of the chair. His head tilted back until Bilbo could only see the sharp angles of his cheeks, chin, and nose, hair messy and tumbling everywhere. His cheeks were red, his chest was heaving as he tried to get his breathing under control, and when he swallowed, his throat was a pretty line that Bilbo couldn’t tear his gaze from. It made him want to trail his teeth over the skin.

And he still hadn’t taken the glasses off.

“Thorin’s busy at the moment, writing the next part,” Bilbo said. “If you interrupt him now, you’ll break his concentration.”

There was silence from the other end of the line. Bilbo waited for his triumph. Nothing could make Denethor cave like the potential of disturbing one of his writers in progress. Especially his biggest seller.

“Fine,” Denethor said, still sounding grumpy. “I want something by tonight, though. Tell him that when he comes up for air.”

“Absolutely,” Bilbo promised, then hung up the phone before he could even say goodbye properly. Damn his manners: he had very improper things to do to Thorin at that moment.

He crawled back into Thorin’s lap. “Did you just _lie_ to…” and then Thorin couldn’t finish because Bilbo had his teeth against his throat.

“I might have,” Bilbo admitted. “Because you have better things to do. Like taking all your clothes off.” Yes, that was exactly what Bilbo wanted at that point.

Thorin began unbuttoning his pants, then paused when Bilbo caught him by the chin and dragged his attention forward. His eyes were an even darker shade of blue now, blown by arousal and magnified by the glasses. It made Bilbo swallow hard. “But leave the glasses on,” he rasped.

He did. It was worth it, every moment of it. Even if Fili and Kili refused to look at either of them for the rest of the day. Apparently the study wasn't sound-proofed well.

And after that, Thorin didn’t seem to mind his spectacles at all. In fact, every time he put them on, he always found Bilbo’s gaze and gave a sly smirk.

Thank god classes were ending soon. Bilbo had plans for his classroom that didn’t involve any of his students, only his boyfriend with those blue eyes and his glasses.

_Finis_


End file.
